Why Minerva McGonagall Hates Valentine's Day
by SylvaDragon
Summary: Why does Minerva see Valentine's Day as the worst day in the entire year ? Why has Hermione been acting so oddly recently ? A story for Valentine's Day set during Harry's second year at Hogwarts. Fluffy romantic humour with a hint of angst. MMAD as always


Why Minerva McGonagall Hates Valentine's Day

_This story is set on Valentine's Day during Harry's second year at Hogwarts._

As Minerva McGonagall strode through the passages of Hogwarts she was already frowning, even though the day had barely started. Today was Valentine's Day and Minerva hated Valentine's Day, viewing it as the ultimate in foolish frivolities. The muscle in Minerva's face twitched as she thought about how most of her female students had spent the past few days alternately mooning over boys, giggling in corners or sobbing. The muscle twitched even more as she remembered some of Albus Dumbledore's past attempts at celebrating Valentine's Day. There was the year that he had turned all the food at every meal the most replusive shade of pink, and then added insult to injury by making it constantly form into hearts so that most of the school had spent mealtimes chasing their food round their plates. Then there had been the year that he had caused heart shaped candy with romantic messages on to cascade down from the ceiling of the great hall, Minerva had not approved of having her daily porridge dive bombed by truffles and lemon drops. The muscle on the other side of Minerva's face joined in the twitching as she recalled how Albus had arrived for breakfast last year with beard and hair dyed bright pink decorated with shining red hearts. The man was insufferable, if it were not for those irrisistable oh so bright blue eyes of his, and his smile that could light up an entire room he would never get away with such behaviour.

All of these were more than ample reasons for Minerva to hate Valentine's Day, and yet none of them were the real reason why Minerva viewed Valentine's Day as the worst day in the entire year. Minerva had long since consigned the real reason to a faraway corner of her mind and commanded it to remain there, the past was best not dwelt on in her opinion particularly when it was both painful and embarrassing.

As Minerva entered the great hall her nostrils flared in fury, causing Harry Potter to remark that she looked much like a dragon about to breath flames upon it's hapless victims. Sparks seemed almost to shoot from Minerva's blazing emerald eyes as she took in the state of the great hall - the walls were covered in flowers in a sickly shade of pink, heart shaped confetti filled the air and that most infuriating of men, Albus Dumbledore, sat beaming benignly and tucking into chocolate heart shaped cereal. Doubtless he was responsible for this affront to her senses, this ridiculous spectacle.

Minerva's hands twitched as though they longed to wring the neck of a certain Headmaster, and she glared at him accusingly as he twinkled up at her in a manner she found unspeakably infuriating. Before Albus could deny his involvement Gilderoy Lockhart said brightly, "Ah Minerva, I see you have noticed my Valentine's decorations, they are quite delightful aren't they."

Minerva's only response was a disapproving silence, her tightly clenched fists and rigid back the only sign of how close she was to hexing Gilderoy Lockhart.

"May I remind you that hexing my professors before breakfast is against school rules Minerva." Albus whispered teasingly.

A comment which caused Minerva to shoot him a look so filled with venom that Albus promptly dropped his remaining cereal all over the floor, and remained silent for the rest of the meal.

At the Gryffindor table Hermione sat with her chin resting in her hands gazing up at the staff table. "That's so sad ..." She muttered mournfully.

Ron and Harry glanced at each other and rolled their eyes despairingly. Hermione had been acting oddly for several days now - constantly gazing off into space then murmuring, "aw it's so sad ..." When asked what was so sad she'd snap "oh you boys wouldn't understand," then go back to looking mournful. she seemed to spend an awful lot of time staring disapprovingly at Dumbledore too, or gazing at McGonagall forlornly.

Breakfast had just finished and Albus sat in his study, he looked unusually sad and the light that normally shone so brightly from his eyes was dim and misty. Albus' chin rested lightly on his hands, his attention was focused on a small bunch of dried flowers that lay on top of the books and scrolls which littered his desk. The faded blooms of purple lavender and pink heather were dusty with age, and tied with an emerald tartan ribbon decorated with faint golden threads which formed the shape of a lion. Attached to the ribbon was a parchment scroll, the writing on it neat and tidy unlike Albus' own messy scrawl.

Regret and longing were etched on Albus' face as he muttered to himself, "It was the only thing I could do, she was so young, so very young ..." Albus sighed heavily and his eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

A purposeful knock at the door dragged Albus from the realm of past regrets, and after taking a few moments to compose himself he called softly, "Please come in Miss Granger."

Hermione got straight to the point. "Professor Dumbledore I was wondering if you would reconsider your decision and let me start taking Arithmancy this year ..."

As Albus surpressed a sigh, Hermione continued to tell him how she was absolutely certain that she would be able to cope with the extra work, and why it was so important that she study Arithmancy this year. Albus had already heard this several times before and rapidly found his attention wandering, as he resumed his previous mournful gazing at the sad little bouquet of dried flowers.

His reverie was interrupted by the irate voice of Hermione. "You're not going to achieve anything moping around like that you know !"

"I beg your pardon ?" Albus said as he glanced up at Hermione in astonishment, noting how she stood with arms folded firmly across her chest glaring at him nearly as fiercely as Minerva so often did.

Hermione glared at Albus sternly. "You're unhappy, she's unhappy, anyone can see you're crazy about her, so why don't you do something about it ?!" Hermione snapped, in a tone of voice which reminded Albus of Minerva giving one of her famed lectures.

The stunned expression of shock on Albus' face said very clearly that no student in the entire history of Hogwarts had dared to speak to him in such a manner before. The Headmaster seemed to be at a complete loss for words, as he opened and closed his mouth uncertainly.

"I mean really how long have you been going on like this ?! Can't you see that Professor McGonagall is crazy over you ?! It's such a waste, look at today for example you both sit there longing for each other when if you did something about it you could both be happy together." Hermioe continued ferociously. "You are the man you know, you're meant to make the first move." Hermy added irately, as her eyes flashed disapprovingly.

"But I have tried." Albus protested, forgetting for a moment that he was speaking to a second year student.

Hermione gazed heavenwards in despair. Do you honestly think that dying your beard bright pink is going to win Professor McGonagall's heart ?" She snapped. "You need to do something that she will like, something romantic ... and pink beards are not romantic, honestly men !"

Having had her say Hermione turned on her heel and stalked towards the door, with her nose in the air, pausing only to shoot another disapproving glare at Albus.

Recovering his composure slightly Albus tried to regain some semblance of control, "Really Miss Granger I am the Headmaster you know ...."

"And what exactly has that got to do with anything ?" Hermione snapped, then closed the door firmly behind her before Albus had a chance to answer.

Albus spent the next few minutes gazing at the firmly closed door almost disbelievingly. As he slowly regained the power of coherent thought he realised the implications of Hermione's words. Could it be true ? Could Minerva possibly love him as he loved her ? He had never thought it possible, espeicially after the way he had hurt her all those years ago. As Hermione's words rang in his ears all his previous attempts at winning Minerva's approval seemed foolish and inadequate. He must think about what Minerva would like, romance her in a way that was fitting and would truly show his love for her. Albus spent the next half hour deep in thought, discarded plan after plan as not good enough for his one true love, untill in desperation his gaze fell upon the faded bouquet of flowers that lay on his desk, and a plan formed in his mind.

Minerva was teaching her first class of the day, second year transfiguration, and was just beginning to feel slightly more cheerful, having just sent one of Lockhart's hideous drawfs flying out of the window with a well timed swipe of her broomstick, which had been leaning conveiniently placed by her desk for just such an eventuality. "That will teach the blasted thing to interupt my class !" Minerva said in satisfaction as her students applauded. Minerva permitted herself the tiniest of smiles, then switched her normal stern glare back on and said firmly, "That is quite enough thank you." Instantly there was silence and for a time all was peaceful.

As Minerva reached out to get a scroll off her desk the air seemed to shiver slightly, and a simple bouquet of freshly picked purple lavender and pink heather tied with an emerald tartan ribbon, embroidered with shimmering hearts in golden thread, appeared on her desk.

For a second Minerva froze then with a sweep of her hand sent the bouquet flying into the litter bin that stood next to her desk. A multitude of emotions surged through her veins, as the years fell away and long buried memories lept to the forefront of her mind. Desperate not to show emotion in front of her students Minerva swung to face the blackboard, stared blindly at the notes she had written there that morning, the only sign of the struggle within were her pursed lips and rigid posture.

Minerva could not help but be plunged into the world of memories. She had been in her final year at Hogwarts, seventeen years old and madly in love with Albus Dumbledore, her Transfiguration Professor, - swept away by his blazing auburn hair and intense blue eyes. Convinced by the way he smiled at her, by the gentleness of his voice, that he shared her feelings and it was just a matter of time before they got together. It had been Valentine's Day and Minerva's decision to send her favourite Professor a Valentine had been an uncharacteristically spur of the moment choice.

She had been falling in love with Albus Dumbledore all that final year, had hoped and dreamed that the hours they spent chatting together meant something more. Unable to sleep for dreaming of Albus' lips on her's, his arms drawing her close, Minerva had risen at dawn to walk in the school's garden where she could smell her favourite flowers of lavender and heather. The purple and pink blooms swaying gently in the breeze seemed to hypnotise her, and stooping she had picked a bunch of the fresh flowers, then tied them with the ribbon from her ebony hair.

Once back in Gryffindor towers' common room she had written a tenderly worded note of love and passion, her fingers trembling with excitement. Daringly with breath catching in her throat, and her heart fluttering like a butterfly trapped against glass, she had signed her full name and cast the spell that sent her Valentine's gift to Albus' study.

Breathlessly she awaited his response, barely able to concentrate on her classes due to dreams of him sweeping her into his arms, and confessing how he had always loved her, then kissing her passionately. Slowly that Valentine's Day drew to a close and no word came from Albus, and Minerva's heart began to break apart within her as she told herself that he must be away, surely he would not ignore her gift once he got it. Her heart finally fell apart when she saw him late that evening in the passage outside the great hall, watched in disbelief as instead of coming to her he turned and walked wordlessly away. She tried to tell herself that perhaps he hadn't seen her in the dimly lit passage, but within herself she knew that he had and that her offer of love had been rejected. Things were never quite the same between them again, there were no more long friendly chats, no more shared laughter. Albus was polite as he would be to any student but that was all, and her Valentine's gift was never mentioned. Minerva had spent most of the rest of the year regretting the distance that her foolishness had caused between them, unable to even meet the eyes of her Transfiguration Professor.

Furiously with unshed tears burning the backs of her eyes Minerva pushed the memories back where they belonged. She had a class to teach this was no time to indulge in such nonsence. The bouquet could not be from Albus he had made his feelings plain all those years ago. It had to be from someone else, perhaps it hadn't even been meant for her at all, it must be just a coincidence. Resolutely Minerva strove to convince herself that this was so and to focus on teaching her class. She was so intent on this that she failed to notice Hermione gazing at her anxiously.

By the time the class had ended Minerva had begun to regain some of her composure. Until it was disturbed once again by the appearance of yet another bouquet of lavender and heather upon her desk, tied with an identical ribbon embroidered this time with the words, 'be mine'. During the course of the day the simple purple and pink freshly fraganced bouquets seemed almost to follow Minerva around the castle, where ever she went one would soon appear until Minerva was driven almost to distraction. Was someone playing a cruel joke on her ? Had Albus told someone about the Valentine's she had sent him so long ago ? Surely he would never do that, but perhaps he had let it slip accidentally and now it was being used to torment her ? Much as Minerva longed to question Albus and see if he could explain about the bouquets she could not bring herself to face him.

At last the long day was over and Minerva could retreat to the solitude of her chambers. Just as Minerva was about to sink into her favourite armchair, she noticed a faded bouquet of purple and pink flowers lying on the table. The simple bunch of lavender and heather was tied with an emerald tartan ribbon embroidered with a lion in faint golden thread. Minerva gasped in shock - this was the same bouquet of flowers she had sent Albus so many years ago. As Minerva stared at the simple bouquet in disbelief tears sprang to her eyes for the second time that day. To most people they would have been just a bunch of dusty old flowers best consigned to the rubbish bin, but to her they were a shining symbol of love. He had kept them for all these years, she could hardly believe it.

Hidden in the shadows Albus watched nervously, all his hopes of finally winning Minerva's heart rested on this one moment. Would it be enough ? Could he dare to hope for her forgiveness, for her to love him still ? His chest constricted sqeezing the breath from his lungs as he remembered how he had ignored her gift, how he had hurt her, how he had turned his back and walked away from her because he feared his own emotions. He had been such a fool, believing that it was the best way to deal with things at the time.

When the bouquet had appeared on his desk that morning all those years ago his heart had lept joyously, and he'd started to his feet ready to make his dreams of embracing Minerva reality. It was as he stepped lightly towards the door, his soul aflame with desire for her, that he had caught sight of his reflection in the mirror and stopped dead. She was a beautiful young girl of seventeen and he was so much older, she was a student and he was Deputy Headmaster. For long minutes Albus had stood there torn in two between desire and duty. At last with a heavy sigh he had turned his back on the so inviting doorway, and with a final regretful glance at the simple bouquet that carried such a message of love, had lifted it carefully and laid it tenderly in a secret drawer in his desk, which he had then locked. Once this was done he had slipped the key into the innermost pocket of his robe where it lay nestled sadly against his heart. Instinctively Albus' hand moved to touch the tiny golden key as it rested close to his heart, as it had every day since Minerva's Valentine's gift to him.

The faintest of sounds alerted Minerva to the presence of another, spinning with wand drawn she saw Albus standing uncertainly by the window, apparently he had been hiding behind the curtains. His eyes shone brightly in the light from the fire, and seemed to plead with Minerva for forgiveness and her love. His voice shook as he stepped towards her, "I came to offer you my heart ... if you still want it .... I know I hurt you all those years ago and I'm so sorry for it, you were so young ... and I was still your teacher it wouldn't have been right ..." Albus reached out tentatively to stroke her cheek tenderly his eyes shimmering with love and longing, "I have always loved you, then and now and forever Minerva."

His touch was featherlight against her skin and yet it burned with years of supressed passion. Minerva could feel how his hand trembled slightly as he caressed her, and the ice that had surrounded her heart for so long finally melted as she lifted her lips to his and permitted him a first kiss.

At breakfast the next day Hermione gazed anxiously up at the staff table, desperate to know what if anything had happened between Dumbledore and McGonagall. Only Hermione's sharp gaze would have noticed Albus slip his hand discretely under the table to encase Minerva's fingers in his grasp. Hermione's smile widened as she saw Minerva shoot the briefest of tender glances at Albus, who responded by whispering softly in her ear. To Hermione's delight and disbelief a faint pink blush spread momentarily across Minerva's cheeks.

"Awww that's so sweet ..." Hermione murmured happily.

"What's so sweet ?" Ron and Harry both asked at once.

"Oh you wouldn't understand." Hermione said firmly, then went back to gazing blissfully at the staff table.

_Author's Notes_

_I really wanted to write something for Valentine's Day, but I lost track of the date, and then this idea drifted around in my mind for several days before it would consent to be written. I also got stuck halfway through and nearly gave up. _

_Please review, reviews are as good as candy. I hope everyone had a truly MMAD Valentine's Day. :)_


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